EDGAR NOMINATED CRIME WRITER

How Do You Know When Editorial Feedback is ‘Right’?

Welcome to the Distress Signals Blogging Bonanza! What’s that, you’re wondering? Well, you can either go and read this post or read the next sentence. In a nutshell: Distress Signals was out in paperback in the UK and Ireland on January 5 and hits the U.S.A. on February 2, and every day in between I’m going to blog as per the schedule at the bottom of this post.

Happy Monday! We had a very busy week here on the blog last week, so I have to dial it back a bit over the next seven days, just for my own sanity. I’ll be sticking to the DDBB schedule, but there’ll just be no 2,996-word blog posts, okay? We’ve both got enough to be doing with our time, I’m sure.

Today I’m going to talk about editorial feedback, specifically the question that all writers need to know the answer to: how can you tell when editorial feedback is ‘right’?

First of all, let’s establish what we’re talking about here. You write a book. You decide the world needs it. Ideally, you then either:

Submit it to an agent who finds you a publisher

Or self-publish in a professional way.

Both of these paths include the joy that is editing. (I’m not being sarcastic: I actually really like being edited.) This is when someone with professional experience, knowledge and skills (or skillz) reads your book and comes back to you with a road map to a better version of it.

I think a good editor doesn’t say things like, ‘Mary needs to break up with him here.’ I think a good editor says things like, ‘Would Mary really stay with him after that? Is that in keeping with her character and her actions so far in the book? Perhaps have a think about it.’ And then you have a think about it and realise that Mary needs to break up with him there.

The big question is: how do you know when editorial feedback is ‘right’? It’s not always, necessarily. My editor at Corvus has never raised anything with me that I didn’t agree with it or failed to see the value in, but back when I was submitting to agents, two of them got back to me with relatively detailed feedback that, while much appreciated, had about as much traction with me as water on a duck’s back. I completely ignored it. And later, when I came to edit the book – first with my agent’s in-house editor and then with my editor at Corvus – none of the things those two agents said I should change got changed. In fact, one of them became more pronounced. So in a very basic, general way, you could possibly say that their editorial suggestions were ‘wrong’.

Now, of course, they weren’t actually editing my book. It was just a long e-mail’s worth of feedback. But if one of them had been my dream agent, I might have listened to them, reworked my book and tried again. And then Distress Signals as it exists today would not. So why did I ignore it? What made me do that? Why didn’t I trust that they were ‘right’?

Here’s the thing: I don’t really know. All I can say is that I just knew. It felt different to when I got suggestions that I took on board. But that’s not really very useful to you, is it? So here are a few tips I’ve picked up along the way from other writers or from my own experience that I think will help.

Think Positive

Before you go any further, I want you to practice something: feeling good about editing. Editing does not mean correcting. It does not mean changing things without your say so. It does not mean overriding you or your vision for your book. In fact, done right, it’s about helping you fully realise that vision. When we write books, there’s often a gap between the idea of it we had in our head and what we actually produce on the page. An editor will help you close or at least narrow that gap. And you both have a common goal: to make this book the best it can be. The editor doesn’t want to rewrite your book. The editor wants to help you do that, better than you did last time around when you only had the inside of your own head to rely upon.

And here’s the thing: editing is fun. Is that a step too far? Sorry, but I love editing. I love it because there’s already 100,000 words or however many there. In existence. Done. I just have to rearrange them and shape them and polish them up. I would rather do that 50 times than have 400 blank pages that need murdering one by one.

And you learn things. Things you can use in future books. And did I mention how much nicer it is than writing the bloody thing in the first place? I did? Well, maybe that should be in there twice.

Let’s be clear: I am NOT saying that every smidgen of editorial feedback you get, you should follow. It is your book at the end of the day, and your name has to go on the cover. But if I say “editing” and everything inside of you clenches up in defence, maybe take a deep breath and try to see this as a positive experience that will only make your book better.

TRUST YOUR GUT

Back in 2010 I went to a ‘Get Published’ Inkwell workshop (run by the fantabulous Vanessa O’Loughlin of Writing.ie) where author and all-round lovely human Monica McInerney was one of the speakers. She told us about how she could have editorial feedback from three different sources: her Australian publisher, her UK publisher and her USA one. Someone asked how she decided what suggestions were worth taking, and which could be dismissed or ignored. And Monica said that when you hear editorial feedback that makes sense, that is right, that should be taken onboard, you feel it. It catches you in the gut. And in the years since I’ve discovered that I totally agree.

The problem with this is that I have met a couple of writers in my time who think everything they write is pure gold which will only lose its sheen should anyone even DARE to edit it. (Aw, bless.) And so if they get feedback, none of it will catch because their ego serves as a Teflon coating. How do you know if this is you? How do you know that it’s not that the feedback isn’t ‘right’ but that you’re delusional?

Honestly, I don’t know. But surely, there’ll be clues. If you’re not getting where you’d like to be with your writing and you’ve done very little editing, rewriting, redrafting, etc. ask yourself if maybe that could be the cause.

Asking Questions

Years ago I was doing a self-publishing workshop at Faber Academy and at the end of the day, one of Faber’s editors came in to talk to the group about editing. She said something I’ve never forgot: ‘The editor is the one who asks the questions.’

This could be something practical, like, ‘You say it takes ten minutes to get from this tube station to this bridge. Does it?’ It might be something to do with characterisation, like, ‘Would she really take him back after what he did? Even though her father’s cheating broke her family apart?’ Or it might be something less specific, like, ‘This feels very slow compared to the previous section. Could we speed it up somehow?’

And here’s the thing: if the editor doesn’t ask the question, a reader will. After they’ve handed over some of their well-earned cash. And right before they go onto Amazon and ask it there. Needless to say, it’s too late to do anything about it then.

Let it percolate

I’m not saying I’m some sort of angelic angel who squeals with delight when the editor’s feedback lands in her inbox, never gets defensive about anything and writes ‘Got my edits today!’ in her Gratitude Journal. HELL no. My initial reaction usually involves arguing with people in my head, a trembling lip and the pain of slowing dying inside. And from what I’ve heard from my writing friends, this is a perfectly normal reaction to getting editorial feedback. But that will change. Give it time. Let it percolate. This is how it usually goes for me:

Reacting to Editorial Feedback: The 5 Stages

[screams and sobbing]

You know, maybe it’s not as bad as I thought

That makes sense to me. Some of it, anyway…

That’s actually a really good idea

[sparks] Oh my god – what if [insert new, BRILLIANT idea here]?!

So that’s that. Is that helpful at all? How do you deal with editorial feedback? Any other tips to share? Let me know in the comments below…

Post navigation

21 thoughts on “How Do You Know When Editorial Feedback is ‘Right’?”

Having had no luck so far with my manuscript on submission, I approached Robert Doran for a professional edit and he saw a major flaw and has recommended a complete overhaul of point of view. I was floored by this but I know he’s right and I’ve started my rewrite. Everything you’ve said makes sense. I know in my gut its the right thing to do for the book, even though the thoughts of a complete rewrite is a nightmare. In taking his advice I’ve discovered things about my characters I didn’t know before and my writing is (I think, I hope) better. Fingers crossed its the change needed to give it some traction. Just need to finish it now!

It IS fun. The hard bit is done. You can break out the Post-Its. You can start actually enjoying the coffee you’re drinking by the litre. And at the end of it all, you have a better book and can binge-watch Netflix guilt free. What’s not to like? 🙂

As a professional editor, I was so pleased to read this positive, clear-eyed post about editing from the author’s point of view. I especially loved this line: “When we write books, there’s often a gap between the idea of it we had in our head and what we actually produce on the page. An editor will help you close or at least narrow that gap.” This is exactly what editing should do! May I use this quote with my editing students?

Ha ha, it’s good to know I’m not the only one who loves editing. My problem is knowing when to stop!
And I totally recognise your five phases – I do exactly the same.
My first experience of being edited by a publishing house editor was a huge shock, and I spent much time yelling loudly about his ‘stupid’ suggestions, and ‘didn’t he understand the point I was making?’ But when I sat down and got on with it and, after speaking to a friend who has had several books published, realised I didn’t have to accept every single point, I was able to recognise how valid most of them were, and how they actually improved the book.

I have an old friend who, upon first receiving a professional edit of a manuscript, called me in a funk of WHY DOES THIS PERSON HATE WHAT I’VE WRITTEN?! DOES SHE THINK I’M AN IDIOT? went over the editor’s comments with him, and he was able to begin to relax when it began to sink in that “Do you want to consider moving this scene closer to the end, for XYZ reasons?” doesn’t mean “You suck at pacing and I say you need to move this.” It actually means, well, “Do you want to consider moving this scene closer to the end, for XYZ reasons?”

He said to me, slowly, with wisdom dawning in his eyes, “Oh, I get it—these queries are actually QUERIES!”

Because I am a very good friend, and I know writers with new drafts are vulnerable, I only laughed at him a little bit.

You are very kind 😉
I took mine away with me to Spain (I was competing out there in a series of dressage competitions) and my poor, long suffering room mate (owner of my horse, and acting groom) had to suffer through the shrieks of indignation.
I think she wished she’d packed ear plugs.

I was going to spell out my reaction to The Email from Tom the Editor landing in my inbox. But then you wrote out the same 5 steps I go through. Fortunately, he is immune to being called a heartless addlepated weasel (he has an older sister.) Also fortunately, I get to the good steps (4 & 5) faster now than in the early days.

When Tom raises practical questions, the answers are usually easy (keep or toss? Tom’s way or my way?) But when he raises character or story questions (at which he is stupendously adept) the answer is always in my character’s character or the story’s theme. I know my story and I know my people, and that makes it easy, or at least possible, to know the answer.

I have had a fair bit of critique and editing with a manuscript that will be going to a “final” editor soon. The Trust Your Gut stuff was really good to hear. I’ve made a lot of changes…that were easy (or at least fairly easy) to make. Whenever I would hesitate on a perspective or suggestion, I would let it sit for a few weeks / months and come back to it periodically.
I quickly realized the validity on “easy” stuff that my gut welcomed. When doing these fixes, I noticed that my new stuff would at times, slightly address things that I was still unprepared to work on elsewhere. Leaving questionable feedback until last helped me A) “Drift” in towards what needed addressing. B) Write a patch in another area of the work and let the original work hold where I wasn’t willing to bend. C) Refine other areas of the story where I felt more confident of the tone / style I was originally going with.
B and C are similar, but different. Basically, doing the easier (gut approved) fixes first brings a better shape to your story and gives you better footing to make the harder adjustments from.

RR,
This is a great approach. I was beginning to think everyone here was completely cowed by editors, or that they believed editors rule the world. Yes, sometimes they are not just wrong but flat wrong. You addressed this without striking back. Very nice.
Eric J. Smith

Many years ago I had a friend who thought everything I wrote was wonderful and said so profusely. You might think that would be great, but it really wasn’t. By the same token, I’ve met people who seem devoted to negativity and belittlement. Paying them too much heed is a big mistake, but they maybe once in a blue moon they say something that needs attention. Learning whose judgment to trust matters, as does learning to be selective about advice. I heard Tessa Hadley talking on the radio recently about the moment when she felt she had authority as a writer. A good editor will support the development of a writer’s confidence and authority.

I’m perfectly OK with editing, although I think some writers make the mistake of assuming any editing is good editing for any genre of book. An editor that specializes in hard science fiction (besides being an arrogant pomp, that doesn’t know anything about science at times) may not be the most relevant if you’re writing an Urban Fantasy Western.

Even with the scope of science fiction, it’s important your editor has read widely enough in your specific sub-genre that they know what is expected from that genre, giving you tips on how to fulfill that expectation while allowing wiggle room to break some of those expectations that function for no other reason than tradition.

An example is the constant jabbering conversations I hear on Wattpad about “Free Energy and Perpetual Motion” doesn’t exist, assuming of course that we will even be in the same place technologically in the next one hundred years. Technical illiteracy is not an admirable trait in a science fiction editor.

To me there is a difference between an editor whose opinion you trust, and some random person that may or may not be as good a writer as you on say … Wattpad, giving you advice on how to write a science fiction novel that you didn’t solicit.

Then you get into the whole issue of your Sf being so different from previous sub-genres, an agent simply can’t sell it because it doesn’t feature anything that exists in any current category. Or perhaps existed but was unclassified.

Editing is good. Technical illiteracy or Dawkins-esque atheism in a work of fiction is not.

This tends to happen when you write about Remote Viewing and Faster Than Light travel, with people juxtaposing atheism into the realm of technical and scientific literacy in fiction.

Good stuff here and I agree. I have found Literary Consultants very helpful on this front. My problem has been a tendency to ask advice from too many sources and then to try and please everyone, I need to trust my gut a little more often.